The Diminutive Chronicles of Those Left Behind
by Infidel Pumpkin
Summary: Renamed due to the reoccurring subject matter of the drabbles. I repeat, these are drabbles, meaning they are terribly short bursts of inspiration based after Zero Requiem. Spoilers throughout all of Code Geass/Code Geass R2 are indeed present!
1. Our Early Autumn Waltz

I've been waiting for days to finally post my first fanfiction ever on the internet! Whoo!

**What is this exactly, Infidel Pumpkin?**

This is the start of a long collection of tiny drabbles I write when I get the feeling, usually when I'm listening to Yiruma or some other classical composer. At the start of each one I'll say what song was listened to/ should be listened to should you have the chance while reading the drabble posted.

**WARNING: THIS IS POST-SERIES!!!** I despise all-capitals but whatever gets your attention. Many of my other coming drabbles are also post-series.

In this particular drabble I surprised myself by writing Kallen. I never liked her much, I don't know why, and most certainly not KallenxLelouch, and so I conclude that this is _not_ a KallenxLelouch one-shot, this is a post-series drabble. I like to believe that Kallen has come to accept Lelouch's passing beatifully in the end, and this is how I conveyed it in my mind, as acceptance- not a romance.

(Wow, the author's notes in this are almost longer than the actual drabble.)

Without further ado, please do enjoy.

Song used: 'Moonlight' by Yiruma.

* * *

_Our Early-Autumn Waltz_

Kallen Kouzuki tiptoed through the hallways of her mother's apartment, careful not to wake her still-recovering biological mother as she sidestepped her bedroom doorway, passed the small kitchen, and proceeded out the door.

A wave of fresh, whipping air blasted her face in a way that tickled her soul. She laughed softly. "Good morning to you too, Lelouch." She responded, and let the wind caress her face for just a moment before pulling her light jacket up over her neck and chin.

The sun was just barely peaking over the horizon at the moment, and Kallen picked up her pace as to make it to her destination on time. Though it was just barely fall in Tokyo, the winds had picked up early this year. Kallen liked to believe it was Lelouch who was speaking to her in song, through the whispering winds and blasting gusts of autumnal weather, and as if it were completely normal, she'd taken her own liking to talking back. Though in a hushed whisper, her conversations with the wind were legit and real.

Reaching her destination—the park—Kallen slowed herself nearly to the point of stopping. The rush of people beside her was not yet present, and the pathway was all to herself now.

The winds—or Lelouch—grabbed a handful of effervescing colorful leaves and hurled them into the sky, throwing them up so very high, then gently guiding them back down, swaying back and forth in the rocking cradle so natural and pure.

Kallen closed her eyes as a particularly large gust of chilled air weaved between her body, sending her hair back as she inhaled the deep scent of life, and she chuckled to herself yet again.

Pausing where she stood, Kallen's mouth twitched into a serene smile, and, eyes still closed, she spun in a single circle, her arms spread out wide and full, as leaves swirled around her figure, and she laughed to the wind. The wind smiled and laughed back, holding her face in its chilled arms once more before dying down as she concluded her twirl on the pathway.

The sun was now just barely among the clouds, and the wave of people had begun to travel her peaceful wind-swept path. "Time for school, I suppose." She told the wind with an apologetic tone, and the trees nearby shuddered in agreement.

Turning on her heel, Kallen headed in the opposite direction from which she came, a smile on her face, with the wind dancing 'round her almost skipping silhouette on the brick road. "Until next time, Lelouch."

And with that, she walked off, leaving the wind to play on its own, until next time.

* * *

Kallen Kouzuki and everything else (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Taniguchi/whoever else is responsible for the anime that so blesses my dreams each night.


	2. The Musing of Nunnally vi Britannia

This one's really short, but I like it enough to put in here.

**WARNING- THIS IS POST-SERIES!!!** Don't you forget it.

You can choose whoever you want this to be (referring to the whole first-person setting). I don't know, make it Zero if you want. I did however always think him/her to just be some random assistant/servant.

Please do enjoy- reviews are appreciated!

Oh, and I neglected to put a disclaimer in the first chapter, and so my disclaimer is:  
I own nothing. I'm not quite creative enough to make up my own characters.

Song: 'Maybe' by _Yiruma_

_

* * *

  
_

_The Musing of Nunnally vi Britannia_

I'd open the door to find her this way.

She'd always insisted upon keeping framed photographs with her, on her table just below the window to her bedroom.

Every once in a while, when I'd come to take her somewhere, I'd find the Empress beside her table, always holding the same well-loved photograph in a simple frame, with a tear fighting its way down her cheek and an ever so subtle smile on her face.

The first time I'd seen this display, I'd asked her what was wrong, though it was obvious why she was this way. She'd shaken her head and set his picture back on the desk.

I found it peculiar how much she still loved him. He led a short reign of tyranny and fear, killed the guiltless, and manipulated the people in a strong choke hold; yet she screamed in agony on that day, his life dripping from her hands.

I came to learn that, despite all that he had done, the Empress still loved the Demon King. Perhaps she knew something everyone else didn't, I can't be sure.

When I asked her what was the matter that day, she replied a few hours later, as we walked through the Aries Palace's gardens.

"It's ironic," she began, as she looked into the sun, "because all I ever wanted was to be with him."

* * *

Nunnally vi Britannia and everything else (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Whoever else.


	3. Fireworks

So, part three of my many depressing drabbles! This is (I think) the last of the post-series ones for now, so things will probably get happier and less... depressing in the near future. I am a sucker for depressing however, so I wouldn't quite count on that.

**WARNING: THIS IS POST-SERIES!!!** You know what to do if you have not watched, my friend.

This was a new thing for me, I've never really tried Milly or Rivalz much. They're always just like... side characters for me, so this was a bit of a challenge.

**(EDIT: This is canon now! There's apparently a Picture Drama in which fireworks occur in a re-gathering. So let it be known that I technically wrote this first and I didn't intend to steal this from canon!)**

Song: 'If You Are My Love' by Yuki Kajiura

* * *

_Fireworks_

Rivalz ate his 'dinner' at work in peace most days, but today, Milly had seemed rather pestered about something. Normally his favorite bouncy, clever person, she'd been rather timid and quiet for the first half of the day at their small news reporting building. Before he'd gotten a chance to ask her what seemed to be lurking at the back of her mind, his break had started, and the longing for his regular crude lunch-like meal got the better of him.

However, as he was munching on a sandwich, Milly, without raising her head from the floor, had grabbed him by the wrist.

"Milly-?" She wouldn't let him finish as they briskly strut through the hallways and up the many stairs. When attempting to understand what was going on, she simply hushed him, in a creepy un-Milly way. He complied.

Rushing up the stairs with Rivalz in tow, Milly kept her focus on her destination. She didn't want him to guess what was happening, and she'd wanted to keep herself from revealing a single thing.

As they neared the last couple of steps, she let out a hushed sigh of relief before letting go of her best friend's wrist at the doorway to the roof.

Before him lay an entire array of multiple brands of fireworks.

Rivalz then took a few moments to ponder such a strange action, before it hit him. He remembered now.

The fireworks.

When Milly could read Rivalz's revelation on his face, she smiled at him; a type of warm, sad smile that jerked at Rivalz's heart.

"God, Milly—" Rivalz said through a breath. Milly turned back to the fireworks.

"He said he wanted to do it again sometime." She simply responded, and hid her face from him as she brushed her hair from her face. He understood now.

It'd been six months and now it was nearing his birthday. She'd probably been planning this for a while.

It was quite sad how many of them had fallen, had left their pack. Now, the last two remaining of the ever-popular Student Council were all that was left, all that had stayed together, through thick and thin.

Rivalz precariously walked over to Milly's side, and lit the first firework.

Blasting into the sky, it brightened into a fanning flower, but quickly faded into nothing. Beautiful, but short-lasting. Just as it had been, in those blissful days, with Shirley, and Nina, and Suzaku, and Kallen, and finally, Lelouch.

Not Lelouch vi Britannia, not The Demon King, their very own Lelouch Lamperouge, Vice President of the Student Council.

Milly let out a saddened chuckle distilled with silence. "Just like us, ne?" and Rivalz knew she was referring to the firecracker that had lit up the entire sky, if just for a moment, and then disappeared.

It was inevitable that both had cried that evening, but more out of respect than anything. It was freezing outside, being the beginning of winter, but both had stayed there until all the fireworks had made their way into the sky, just for a bit.

After all, to really appreciate something, you have to lose it forever.

* * *

Rivalz Cardemonde and Milly Ashford and everything else (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Everything else.


	4. Watching Over Her

I was going through the characters of Code Geass to find another depressing person to write for post-series when I realized that I'd yet to do Cornelia! I find Cornelia hard, but I love her character dearly. Hope this doesn't make anyone's eyes bleed. And this means I lied when I said I was done with the post-series, because here I am with another one. Hope you enjoy.

Whoah, I planned on uploading this today and then I saw that another recent fanfiction had the title 'Look After You' by eMilyUSIerraC. The title to this is nearly the same, so I'm just clarifying that this wasn't on purpose, heheh...

**WARNING: THIS IS POST-SERIES!!!** You've been warned properly.

Song: 'After the War' by _Nakagawa Koutarou  
_

_

* * *

_

_Watching Over Her_

Cornelia li Britannia had indeed detested her half-brother at a time. Back when she had little to no understanding of what was going on behind that coy smile of his- she'd never been very good at his or Schneizel's games.

She had sided with Schneizel and regretted it now. His views were destructive and outrageous- almost worse than Lelouch's. _Almost._

Lelouch must have been trying his damn hardest to destroy himself. The terrible things he did were the fuel that sent her to Schneizel's side, with Nunnally in tow. She'd realized that Nunnally was being used as yet another tool, to control Lelouch. He tried to hide his distress when he'd seen her in Schneizel's grip, but she'd caught the shake in his hands and faltering smirk.

Cornelia could feel that Schneizel's plans were not to her liking, and when she found out the true extent of his tactics, she rebelled, only to be shot by a hidden gun and sent away to a hospital as a person with little to no use. Schneizel was exactly like their father, and it scared her; Cornelia li Britannia was not scared easily.

She was also scared when she watched her half-brother destroy Britannia. The things he did, it seemed like he was trying to make the world turn on him, like he was encouraging the growing hatred manifested in his name. Of course, Cornelia had no evidence to prove her desperate attempt at explaining his motives.

"Princess Cornelia." She was pulled out of her thoughts as her Knight called to her with an umbrella in hand, and she then realized that it had indeed begun to rain.

"Do you think there's a Hell, Guilford?" Cornelia asked, monotone and deep as she stared into the markings etched in stone. "If there's a Hell, Lelouch is in it." She did not wait for an answer, but as she thought over her remark, her eyebrows furrowed and she frowned.

"No," She whispered, "Hell does not exist." She blinked and held her eyelids down, still frowning.

"Guilford," she began another question though she did not anticipate an answer, "Do you think there's a Heaven?" Another bout of silence. She knelt before the gravestone before her, not giving a care about what damage could come to her clothing in the muddied soil.

"If there's a Heaven, Euphie must be there." She said as her gloved finger traced the engraved 'L'.

"What good is one without the other, though?" She asked the sky, raindrops falling beside her open eyes and dripping down her cheeks. "Someone needs to keep my Euphie in line up there." Cornelia's forehead rested upon the cold wet stone and her palms touched the gritty surface.

"So perhaps, there is no Hell at all. Only a Heaven where my Euphie and Lelouch can play together without a care in the world." Cornelia chuckled to herself, a sweet smile gracing her lips with her eyes closed once more. She fixated the violet flowers neatly before the memorial that had been sheltered from the world, in Nunnally's fear of the imminent vandalism, and stood, a smile still on her face.

"You don't deserve Hell, my brother." She whispered to herself, so quietly Guilford could not hear her. "I don't think you were quite so ruthless at heart to deserve such a fate. Take care of Euphie for me." She concluded, and turned on her heel for Guilford, who handed her the umbrella.

And with that, Cornelia li Britannia removed the soft motherly aura from her body and returned to the callous War-Princess she had been previously known to be. If this war had taught her anything, it was to watch over that which she held dear, for most of it had been taken from her already.

* * *

Cornelia li Britannia and Everyone Else (c) Sunrise/Clamp/Whoever Else


	5. The Requiem of Zero

There are too many emotional angsty fanfictions with Zero!zaku in them and they mostly occur within hours/days of Zero Requiem's completion, so I thought I'd be a bit more cheerful! Well, maybe not. It's bittersweet, at the least. Just read it and tell me things.

Oh, and I know it sounds like C.C. and Suzaku did some stuff in C.C.'s inn room, but I promise it was totally 'in the clear'. Awkward. But this is still a slight **Suzaku x C.C.** But not really. It wasn't intended that way, but it's sort of hinted if you squint.

**WARNING: THIS IS POST SERIES!!!** Really Post Series.

_(I should also probably note that this one-shot includes Character- de ath)_

Song: 'Aoi Hitomi' by _Maaya Sakamoto_

_

* * *

  
_

_The Requiem of Zero_

No one dared question Zero. If he ever did speak, it was for good reason, for his voice was barely used outside of the confinements of his constantly locked bedroom.

The maids could hear him mumbling through his towering white door, the paradoxical satire to his very name. It had been a palace-renowned rule not to disturb him when he was speaking to whichever he so pleased. No one quite knew what it was Zero could possibly be conversing with.

All he did was stand in the foreground without a single wavering motion throughout conferences and meetings and hearings alike. He followed Empress Nunnally vi Britannia wherever she may have gone, no matter the location, time or means.

Zero was no longer a rebellious figure of power and persuasion. Now he was just a symbol, one that held its tongue and stood at attention for hours on end without a single powerful persuasive word its secret predecessor would have belted. He was not a person but a statue, simply there to watch over the world Empress Nunnally vi Britannia was slowly reforming.

The world forgot about Zero over the years. He subtly became part of the stage and the people lost their loyalty to him. They now pledged to the Holy Empress Nunnally as the new beacon of hope as she aged beautifully through her twenties, thirties, forties, and beyond.

He waited until he was completely unneeded before vanishing from the backdrop. Not a single person brought it up, and the few who even noticed did not think twice of it. Zero had grown old and sick and had received Nunnally's acceptance to retire from his position. Again, not a single soul paid any attention to the loss of their symbol.

Zero traveled across the countryside of Japan for many months, in search of the green-haired witch he'd once known. He found her in a small run down village with wooden one story buildings and dusty roads.

"Kururugi." She'd said, her eyes steely and unreadable.

"Kururugi has left this world." He responded, his own eyes hopefully as strong as her own, though weathered with the extreme aging he'd experienced. Zero hadn't any idea how old he was now. Sixty? Sixty-five?

He was broken from his thoughts as she chuckled, soft and sad. "I suppose you're right, Zero." The smile remained as her eyes faded once more. "You haven't another day left, do you?" She said, mocking.

"I suppose you're right." He responded, tipping his hat and turning to leave, and she laughed once more, finding the entire experience all the more amusing. He'd never completely understood her.

The witch was entirely correct upon her assumption. Zero passed away the following morning in the witch's inn room.

"How ironic, Zero," She began, staring through his closed eyelids with a softened glare, "It seems all pieces of him have left me now." She closed her eyes and allowed one single tear to run down her cheek before realizing the action.

"Why do I cry for one such as you? You were definitely no prize." She said with a laugh. "Naïve, suicidal, straight-forward. Those you were."

"How selfish I am." She muttered, beginning a new thought, but neglecting to finish it. She stopped her breath and sighed, deep and long.

So the witch performed a small closed funeral for Zero in the middle of rural Japan. Zero was laid to rest in an open field with little more than a stone with the Japanese characters for Zero upon it and a shovel. No priest, no mourners, no one but the witch, men to dig and bury, and his corpse in a crude wooden box.

The men did their job hastily as the witch watched the dirt and grime relay itself in the Earth from their sullied shovels. "Goodbye, Suzaku." She told him when the diggers had long left and she'd watched the sunset drop below the surface behind his rudimentary grave.

She let him be just like that; nothing more, nothing less. The absolution of Zero.

* * *

Zero, C.C., and the most of the concept (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Everyone else.


	6. A Game of Hide and Seek

I thought I'd pull this loosely-hanging collection to a close with this sort-of drabble. Well, I consider anything over one thousand words a one-shot, and this is fifty-three words over that, but that's alright with me. I assume this will be the last of my drabbles, since they faded off into the distance long ago and I have left it abandoned for so long. Nonetheless, I hope you've enjoyed the collection, feeble as it may seem.

It also seems I have a strange fascination with Hide and Seek.

Song: 'Sora' by _Shanti Snyder._

_

* * *

  
_

_A Game of Hide and Seek_

Because that's all it really was.

* * *

The first time they'd played was when they were both small, no more than seven years old. So innocent and free it'd been, back when there was no bloodshed and no outside world, not a care of what was happening outside of the Palace's walls. It was back when Nunnally still had her legs and could run along with him. Through the hallways and gardens they'd pad on naked feet, an effervescent laughter dancing in their heads.

Without warning, their Garden of Eden was destroyed in an instant. Nunnally could not walk, could not see, and their mother had been brutally mutilated with lead bullets. Down cascaded the glass windows' shards as he screamed for his life, unharmed and shaking; alive.

They were forced to play their meaningless game once more as they were sent away, abandoned. The father did not want weak, mother-less children. Together they lived in a dilapidated shack, consisting of nothing more than four walls, a loft, a bed, a small wrecked kitchen and a bathtub.

Again they cooperated with this pastime as they were sent along again to another location. Passed like dinner table dishes; a small portion taken, then passed once more, each time diminishing in content. It was true that the small scared boy had indeed lost some of his previous childhood flame that had been replaced with hatred and fury, combined with a thirst for revenge against the country that so terribly maimed his family.

The little soldier was neither strong nor brave, but did his soul ever have the perseverance of a warrior. Somehow he'd pulled through, and in the many years—a record, when compared to his previous homes—he'd spent in Japan, he recuperated with Nunnally in silence. Forever concealed from his country of origin, hidden away, for the country had declared him and his sister murdered. New identities were made for the both of them as they lodged in a high school for the remainder of his teenage years and most of hers. Never would they complain, anything to get them away from the country he so despised.

It wasn't until he was nearing high school graduation that he decided of his own will once more to play the long-lost game he thought he'd forgotten. Under a new façade, he raised an army strong enough to destroy his mother country, to rival it. The only difference between this match of hide and seek and the previous was that people _were _trying to catch him now.

He covered his tracks neatly and kept his mouth shut, and not a soul knew who he was save a certain witch and himself. It was only when things had begun to move in the complete opposite direction than he intended that he realized what he had caused. He was forced to kill his half-sister, for an unfixable mistake that he was obliged to amend.

The final battle arose, and just when it had appeared to have been won, it twisted backwards. Their masked leader had fled from battle for some pressing matters that _must _have been more important than their history-altering battle.

He was captured and sold by his best friend, for a promotion. Too bad he was not able to remember it for a year as he was effectively brainwashed of his past. His memories were rewritten carefully, and he knew not a thing for a year of bliss. Under cameras at every moment of every day, being watched like defenseless bait.

His memories returned with a jolt and he was once again plummeting into another game, another manipulative diversion as he restored his previous masked title. His story picked up from where it had halted, but it did not go quite as smoothly as it originally had. He lost a friend, lost a brother, nearly lost Nunnally- he broke down at this point.

He was incapable of feeling after losing it all. He felt no remorse, did not even wince, as he killed his father and took the throne of the empire he, until recently, seemed to wish to destroy.

He certainly did destroy this empire. The Demon King, he did live up to his new title that was definitely not given in praise. The Tyrant, that he was, as he executed all morning and night and brainwashed himself an army of drones, soldiers that would obey whatever command he did give them without a moment's hesitation. He turned himself into a symbol of absolute, universal hatred—all according to plan.

It wasn't until his end that he finally allowed himself to be found in his game, and he accepted it with open arms—he'd planned his own demise, after all. He would pass and the world would unite to lick its wounds and restore stability, under his sister's peaceful rule.

As his own life poured from the open wound in his chest, he finally felt a closure here. This world would be reborn from the ashes he had reduced it to, and he could be free. Games, they did not matter anymore, because now he was waiting patiently for his last breath to reach his lips. He almost didn't realize that it was coming soon, as his eyes fogged so opaque he could not see Nunnally's beautiful—functioning—lilac eyes anymore.

He passed smiling. His head tilted down from the lack of working muscles, and his hair swished over his closed eyes, the shade below them reflecting his withered spirit. His fingers were still entwined within his sister's soft palms.

She screamed for him but he did not answer. All she received in return was that peaceful haunting smile, and a growing sea of red gnawing through his previously white clothing.

The Demon Emperor had completed his game; he had come around full circle. Only a handful of people would know of his true being, his true intentions, behind his many masks. It had ended happily in the end, just as it was supposed to, as directed by the entity of brilliance himself, Lelouch vi Britannia. The masked leader Zero, the Academy student Lelouch Lamperouge, and the Demon King of Britannia, all in one scared little boy playing a long game of hide and seek.

* * *

_Code Geass and all of its attributes (c) Sunrise/CLAMP/Bandai Entertainment/Goro Taniguchi._


End file.
